


I’d Give My Life For You

by emmyspaghetti



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, F/F, F/M, Gavroche is a little shit, Implied Violence, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Javert is desperate, Javert looking out for Gavroche, Loosely based off of Telltale Games’ The Walking Dead Game, M/M, Marius is a clueless noodle, Multi, The Thénardiers are shitty parents, implied/referenced misgendering, the Thénardier children deserve better, trans!gavroche, Éponine adopts her siblings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24265273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyspaghetti/pseuds/emmyspaghetti
Summary: A Police Captain searching for a culprit to complete his life’s purpose, a hungry little boy who wants to find his sisters, the lessons they teach each other, the people they meet, and a whole lot of zombies.
Relationships: Azelma Thénardier & Éponine Thénardier & Gavroche Thénardier, Bahorel/Bahorel's Laughing Mistress (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent & Jean Valjean, Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy/Éponine Thénardier, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Feuilly/Azelma Thénardier, Gavroche Thénardier & Les Amis de l'ABC, Javert & Gavroche Thénardier, Javert & Jean Valjean, Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Madame Thénardier/Thénardier, Montparnasse & Gavroche Thénardier, Montparnasse/Jean Prouvaire, The Patron Minette & Thénardier, Éponine Thénardier & Gavroche Thénardier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	I’d Give My Life For You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone, 
> 
> Sorry for my long hiatus, this took much longer than expected. But it’s finally out and I’m ecstatic to share this with all of you. There is some heavy subject matter in this story so be sure to read the tags before diving in because it is not by any means my intention to trigger anyone because of my writing. If you do stick around, be sure to leave a kudos and a comment if you like it because those really make my day. Enjoy, or don’t, it’s up to you, pal. 
> 
> Sincerely,  
> E

“ _Sometimes people leave you_

_Halfway through the wood_

_Do not let it grieve you_

_No one leaves for good_.” 

\- Stephen Sondheim 

Captain Valentine Javert does not care for small talk, nor does he often have time for such casualties because of his line of work.

The beginning of this day had started off no stranger than his others; starting with an early morning escort of a miscreant to a prison facility after he was found guilty of multiple crimes. 

The captain is notable for not engaging in conversations with the deplorables who sit behind the barrier of glass, but for some reason he decided upon himself to try to better himself in this aspect of the job, so he began the conversation. 

“Are you going to say it?” 

The culprit in the back of his cruiser, Frederic Thénardier, a weasel who had slipped away from law enforcement for years and had finally been doled a very deserved thirty years to life sentence, scoffed. 

“What?” 

Javert adjusted his mirror, keeping his eye sight on the road. 

“Usually when I drive past that lot of trees whoever’s sitting where you’re seated starts telling me that they’re innocent.” 

Thénardier licked his lips hastily, thinking that he had an opportunity to share his case to a new audience. 

“I _am_ innocent.” 

Javert rolled his eyes, having heard those words thousands of times before. 

“If you’re innocent, who did it?” 

Thénardier went silent, as if he was strategizing his next move in the match that is this conversation. 

“I’m a good man, officier. A husband, father, and frequent church goer. I don’t know if you’re religious or not, but _I_ am. And I don’t think the big man would like me being wrongly sent to the big house.” 

Javert knew this to be false, for he had read the reports made against this weasel of a man and his very agitating wife, who was driven to the same prison not long ago by one of his colleagues.

“Did you think about what would happen to your children when you broke the law?” 

The con artist in the backseat shrugged his shoulders. 

“They don't think of me, why should I think of them?” 

The captain could see too much of his own father in this man, and in his mind he was having the conversation that he wished he could have with his father. 

Granted, having said conversation would require finding his father, and that, that’s not going to happen anytime soon. 

“Because you’re their father, and that’s what fathers are supposed to do.” 

A snort could be heard from the back of the cruiser. 

“My girl Éponine, she emancipated herself when she was seventeen, took her sisters with her. Even the little one. Haven’t seen ‘em since. She said I’m not their daddy anymore. Good riddance.” 

Javert noted that the weasel dropped the family man act just as quickly as he picked it up. 

“And you haven’t any sons?” 

Thénardier’s mouth morphed into a scowl. 

“The missus and I never cared for little boys.” 

Another police cruiser was driving posthastedly back into the city, which caught Javert’s curious eye. 

Two others followed shortly behind it, along with a paramedics wagon. 

Javert turned the knob on his scanner, hoping that someone would notify his quadrant what the commotion was about. 

All that could be heard over the monitor was static, which filled the entire vehicle, causing the weasel in the backseat to begin to panic. 

“What’s going on? I have rights, I deserve to know.” 

The captain cleared his throat, beginning to panic. It sounded as thought the radio signal had cut out, so here he was with a dangerous individual in the backseat demanding answers and no way to call for help if the situation escalated. 

“I am unsure at the moment, remain calm.” 

Thénardier kicked the backseat. 

“You can’t just tell someone to be calm, you don’t get to control how I feel!” 

Javert turned to the back, glowering at the miscreant. 

“Well at least stop having a tantrum, you’re kicking government property.” 

Thénardier kicked the seat once more before looking past Javert, seeing a silhouette of a figure wander towards the middle of the road. 

“Shit!” 

Javert turned back around, and tried to swerve his vehicle, though he was unsuccessful in avoiding contact with the figure. 

It’s not like the individual felt any pain anyways, they were already dead. 

The police cruiser tumped, and proceeded to tumble down a hill until finding its final resting place at the base. Javert was immediately knocked out cold, which drew an opportunity for an escape for his passenger. 

Just like the animal that he is, he scooted his way out of an open window and disappeared into the woods. 

When Javert finally came to, he struggled to his feet, noting that he had sustained an injury to his left leg during the crash. 

“Is there anyone out there?”

A subtle moan and a rustle of bushes could be heard in the distance, and naively, he jumped to the conclusion that this was Thénardier. 

“I need help, please I-” 

It wasn’t Thénardier, and the captain realized this when the figure began to make its way over to him, having similar qualities to a corpse. He immediately hovered his hand over his holster, keeping the other hand up in the air.

“Stay back.” 

The figure, who was no longer a member of the living, obviously didn’t listen, answering the man’s demand by gnawing its teeth. 

Javert could feel his heart beating out of his chest, and he pulled his gun out of its holster and aimed it. 

“I said get back, don’t force me to do this.” 

It took three more steps, so the man fired his weapon, watching as the individual only staggered a little on their feet after being hit in the chest with a bullet. 

This amazed the captain, whose mouth was slightly agape. 

The figure, a dead man walking continued to move closer to Javert, and without warning the gun was fired a second time. 

This time the figure fell to the forest floor in a crash, and the captain looked over to examine the body. 

Said body is decaying and dehumanized, which frightened Javert, as he has never seen something so horrid. 

He looked around, seeing if his gunshot had attracted anyone, and noticed that his hypothesis was correct because a small silhouette of a person could be seen standing a distance away. 

The individual, a hungry little boy looking for his babysitter, noticed the captain and took off running back towards his house. 

“Wait!”

Javert began to follow, though he was not as fast as the child due to his injury and the fact that he wasn’t as nimble as he was back in the day when he perused Jean Valjean. 

This eventually led to him being left in the boy’s dust. 

He continued to follow though, as he was sure that there would be an understanding adult that he could seek attention for his wound from. 

The captain continued in the direction after the boy, who had led the stranger to an unlatched fence and a house with a rather large backyard, complete with a sturdy maple tree, tire swing and tree house. 

The yard looked secure, leaves were meticulously raked into a pile, and no bodies of those things in sight. 

Perhaps it is one of the only normal looking backyards in the world now. 

“Hello?” 

There was no answer, and no sign of the little boy that had disappeared after being discovered. 

Javert made his way to the steps leading up to the back porch, his eyes wandering around the yard, desperate to find someone to tell him what was happening. 

After climbing up the steps, he opened the sliding glass door slowly, stepped into the house, then shut the door behind him. 

“Is anyone here? I’m not an intruder, I’m a police officer.” 

No one answered, so the captain continued to walk, keeping his hands raised in surrender. 

“I had an accident in the woods, I’m not one of them.” 

He stepped in a puddle of some sort and slipped, colliding with the ground with a big crash, landing on his hip. 

Javert’s heartbeat increased rapidly when he realized that the puddle he had slipped on was blood, noticing the small hand prints and shoe tracks that disappeared as soon as the kitchen tiles merged with the living room carpet. 

Something had happened here, he wasn’t quite sure what, but whatever it was, someone got hurt. 

“Jesus.” 

He slowly made his way back to his feet, wincing in pain. 

“Turn around!” 

Before the captain could determine whose voice had called out to him, he was met with the walking deceased version of a tall older woman, who looked similar in fashion to the individual he encountered in the forest trying to make him her next meal. 

He took a few frantic steps backward, further into the living room, panicking as his gun resides near the pool of blood in the kitchen. 

The woman grabbed onto his arm, and he wrestled to push her away, trying ever so hard to avoid being bitten by her gnawing teeth.

Javert pushed her roughly enough to knock her to the floor and quickly looked around the room, and eyed a hockey stick leaning against a bookshelf. 

It was farther than it would’ve been in an ideal situation, then again in an ideal situation he wouldn’t have to defend himself with a hockey stick. 

Suddenly there was a symphony of bangs on the window. 

The women let go of the captain to pursue this, so he took the opportunity to get the stick. 

He dashed across the room to grab it and noticed that the little boy was anxiously backing away from the sliding glass door. 

The child had made the distraction, and quite possibly saved the man’s life. 

Now Javert would return the favor. 

“Get away from him!” 

When the woman advanced on him again Javert finished the job, staring down at the puddle that was beginning to soak into the living room carpet. 

“Is she dead?” 

Javert pivoted around to be met with a pair of light brown eyes, belonging to a small and freckled boy, no older than eight or nine, who had opened the sliding glass door. 

There was no doubt in the captain’s mind that this was the child he had followed. 

His hair was a bird's nest of wild dark brown curls, his clothes looked worn, and his laces to his high tops were untied. 

The captain turned over to look at the body of the woman, before turning back to the boy. 

“I think so.” 

He paused, realizing that he was talking to a child, meaning that he should attempt to sound more sympathetic. 

“Were you close?” 

The little boy shook his head, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pants. His gaze was still trained on the corpse of Mother Plutarch. 

“Not really. She was my babysitter’s aid. He went to go find help after some crazy guy bit her. I was in the driveway playing street hockey when it happened.” 

Javert looked at the stick in his hands before turning back to the boy. 

“I’m sorry about the-” 

The younger of the pair shook his head, cutting the elder off. 

“Don’t be. I don’t think I’ll be playing any time soon.” 

He cleared his throat, remembering to get back onto the topic at hand. 

“My babysitter hasn’t come back yet. His name is Mr. Mabeuf, he lives down the street. After a few hours she turned and attacked me, so I went and hid in the tree house.” 

The child scratched the back of his neck, looking down at his worn out sneakers. 

“I think he left me because he was scared.” 

His voice trailed off before noticing the gun laid forgotten on the kitchen floor. 

The boy has always associated guns with his father, so needless to say seeing one made him a little on edge. 

“You’re not going to hurt me, right? I didn’t let her bite me.” 

Javert shook his head, as it had never been his intention to scare or hurt the boy. 

“No, no of course not.” 

He paused. 

“I need assistance, if you could just-”

The little boy, a truly sarcastic creature, rolled his eyes. 

“Look pal, we all need help nowadays. But you don’t see me chasing kids and breaking into other peoples’ houses, do you?” 

Javert bit the inside of his cheek, noting that the situation did seem a bit condemning. 

“I didn’t mean to chase you, I was just glad to find someone that wasn’t one of those… things.” 

The boy shook his head. 

“Mordeurs.” 

“Pardon?” 

“Oh, well that’s what I call them. Pretty creative, right?” 

The captain shrugged his shoulders, and the child felt his face flush up. 

“It’s a lot better than calling them ‘things’.” 

Javert didn’t like being bested by someone less than half of his age, though he chose not to retort with a snarky yet cold answer. That’s not what the kid needs right now. 

“You said you were left with a sitter. Where is the rest of your family?” 

The child hesitated before nodding as he scratched a mosquito bite on the back of his forearm. 

“My sister went to move my other sister into her dorm. Sometimes I get carsick, so I stayed home. ” 

He looked past Javert to a picture of the three of them, and rocked back and forth on his heels. 

“I want them to come back now.” 

The captain, known for not having any emotion at all, felt his heart sink a little bit. If the rest of the world was in this condition, he didn’t expect those girls to be walking through the front door any time soon. 

“And your parents?” 

The younger of the pair hesitated, before telling the truth. Honesty is the best policy, after all. 

Even when the world turns to shit. 

“My sister takes care of me, my parents never did that. So we left, I was seven or eight when we did.”

Despite being so young, he could remember them vividly in his mind; his stout mother pulling him over her knee for a spanking or his father yelling at him for making too much noise. 

Javert was rethinking his life choices and came to the realization that he’d never find Valjean, the criminal he’s spent years pursuing. 

“Damn.” 

The little boy furrowed his eyebrows before looking up at Javert. 

“What is it?” 

He had always been too curious for his own good. 

The captain didn’t want to lay all of his first world problems on the kid, but he also didn’t want to lie, either. 

“I‘ve been looking for someone for years and now with all of this, I’ll never find him.” 

Valjean would just be remembered as the one that got away, and Javert would be miserable for all of his days. 

“What did he do?” 

The little boy’s curiosity and interest in the topic was refreshing, as his colleagues always rolled their eyes when the captain would recall the tale. 

“He broke into a house and stole some bread so his nephew wouldn’t starve.” 

A small sigh of relief came from the boy, who was worried about the criminal being his father. 

“That’s it?” 

Javert’s nostrils flared. 

“What do you mean _that’s it_? He’s a dangerous man. He tried to run away from his consequences, and got fourteen more years in prison.” 

The little boy stuck his hands in his pockets once more, shrugging it off. That was nothing compared to the crimes his parents committed. 

“I know people who’ve done worse.” 

That was a direct reference to his father, who was in the police cruiser that crashed not too long ago. 

What a small world. 

“In my book, there’s no one worse than Jean Valjean.” 

The child’s eyes widened, as he was well aware that this criminal and his sister’s girlfriend’s dad share the same name. 

“I know him.” 

Javert’s icy blue eyes met the large doe eyed brown pupils that belong to the child in front of him. 

“Can you take me to him?”

The boy didn’t answer immediately, as he was hatching a deal out in his mind. 

“I don’t know, what’s in it for me?” 

Javert’s mouth cracked a smile, something practically unheard of. The world really must be ending. 

“You’re a clever little thing, aren’t you? What’s your name?” 

The younger of the pair hesitated once more, remembering what his sister who doubled as his legal guardian told him about giving his name to a police officer. 

“You ask a lot of questions.” 

A small silence filled the room, so the child spoke again. 

Having no desire to be linked with the rat he used to call ‘dad’, he thought of a fake surname on the spot. 

“Gavroche. Gavroche Jondrette.” 

The captain bent down to the boy’s level, feeling a sense of sympathy he hasn’t felt in years. 

“I’m Captain Javert-” 

This is when he noticed that Gavroche’s laces were untied.

He looked up at the boy, before beginning to tie his sneakers, starting with the right foot. 

“Listen Gavroche, I don’t know what’s going on. I woke up in the forest about an hour and a half ago, but I’ll look after you, alright? We’ll find Valjean and-” 

“And my sisters.” 

The boy had interrupted because he wanted to make sure Éponine and Azelma were also top priority. They’re his entire world, after all. 

Javert nodded, moving onto the little boy’s left sneaker. 

“We’ll find Valjean _and_ your sisters, part ways and never see each other again. Deal?” 

When he finished tying the second sneaker the man stood up and attempted to brush some of the muck off of his pants. 

Gavroche nodded, understanding that this is his only chance at finding his sisters. 

“Deal.” 

The captain looked around the house and spotted a picture of two older girls and the little boy at some sort of science fair. 

A simpler time than this by far. 

“Take that picture.” 

The child furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding his new caretaker’s words. 

“Why? I’ll be back here as soon as I find my sisters-” 

“Just do as I say, alright?” 

Gavroche’s walked over to the wall where the picture is, took it out of the frame and slipped it into his hand-me-down backpack, which he had packed with a hoodie and a few essentiels, which was left forgotten about when he ran from the undead version of his babysitter’s aid. 

While he was doing this the police captain limped back over to the kitchen, picked up his gun, and secured it back in his holster. 

“Ready, Gavroche?” 

The boy nodded, slipping his backpack onto his shoulders, preparing to take flight, before turning back and grabbing a baseball cap that belongs to Éponine and placing it over his curls. 

As naive as it sounds, he believed it might protect him against the challenges he knows they’re about to face. 

Javert led the boy back over to the sliding glass door, blissfully unaware that his life and morals would be turned upside down not by the apocalypse, but by the little eleven year old walking beside him. 


End file.
